I am that body.

I see them every day on my way to the train, at the train station, and on the train. I see them talking to themselves, writing on the sidewalk like a carzy person, fouling up the air.

On my way to work and all over again at the end of the day— there are the hungry, tired, flexibly abled other bodies.

I do not stop; I keep on moving.

Am I really without a soul?

🦩 #22
I have a body